GEORGE SHAW - The Complete Works

“Not really weak,” replied Mary hastily. “I mean that the weakness proper to her story is very touchingly expressed.”

“She means that it is too sober and respectable for her,” said Charlie. “She likes screaming colors. If you had dressed the lady in red and gold; painted the Turkey carpet in full bloom; and made Lancelot like a sugar stick, she would have liked it better. That armor, by the bye, would be the better for a rub of emery paper.”

“Armor is hard to manage, particularly in distance,” said Herbert. “Here I had to contend with the additional difficulty of not making the reflexion in the mirror seem too real.”

“You seem to have got over that pretty successfully,” said Charlie.

“Yes,” said Mary. “There is a certain unreality about the landscape and the figure in armor that I hardly understood at first. The more I strive to exercise my judgment upon art, the more I feel my ignorance. I wish you would always tell me when make foolish comments. There is someone knocking, I think.”

“It is only the housekeeper,” said Herbert, opening the door.

“Mr Jack, sir,” said the housekeeper.

“Dear me! we must have been very late,” said Mary. “It is four o’clock. Now Charlie, pray behave like a gentleman.”

“I suppose he had better come in here,” said Herbert. “Or would you rather not meet him?”

“Oh, I must meet him. Papa told me particularly to speak to him myself.”

Mr Jack was accordingly shewn in by the housekeeper. this time, he displayed linen — a clean collar; and he carried a new hat. He made a formal bow, and looked at the artist and his guests, who became a little nervous.

“Good evening, Mr Jack,” said Herbert. “I see you got my letter.”

“You are Mr Herbert?” said Jack, in his resonant voice which, in the lofty studio, had a bright, close quality like the middle notes of a trumpet. Herbert nodded. “You are not the gentleman to whom I spoke on Saturday?”

“No. Mr Sutherland is not well; and I am acting for him. This is the young gentleman whom I mentioned to you.”

Charlie blushed, and grinned. Then, seeing a humorous wrinkling in the stranger’s face, he stepped forward and offered him his hand. Jack shook it heartily. “I shall get on very well with you,” he said, “if you think you will like me as a tutor.”

“Charlie never works,” said Mary: “that is his great failing, Mr Jack.”

“You have no right to say that,” said Charlie, reddening. “How do you know whether I work or not? I can make a start with Mr Jack without being handicapped by your amiable recommendations.”

“This is Miss Sutherland,” said Herbert, interposing quickly. “She is the mistress of Mr Sutherland’s household; and she will explain to you how you will be circumstanced as regards your residence with the family.”

Jack bowed again. “I should like to know, first, at what studies this young gentleman requires my assistance.”

“I want to learn something about music — about the theory of music, you know,” said Charlie; “and I can grind at anything else you like.”

“His general education must not be sacrificed to the music,” said Mary anxiously.

“Oh! don’t you be afraid of my getting off too easily,” said Charlie. “I dare say Mr Jack knows his business without being told it by you.”

“Pray don’t interrupt me, Charlie. I wish you would go into the next room and look at the sketches. I shall have to arrange matters with Mr Jack which do not concern you.”

“Very well,” said Charlie, sulkily. “I don’t want to interfere with your arrangements; but don’t you interfere with mine. Let Mr Jack form his own opinion of me; and keep yours to yourself.” Then he left the studio.

“If there is to be any serious study of music — I understood from Mr. Herbert that your young brother desires to make it his profession — other matters must give place to it,” said Jack bluntly. “A little experience will shew us the best course to take with him.”

“Yes,” said Mary. After hesitating a moment she added timidly, “Then you are willing to undertake his instruction?”

“I am willing, so far,” said Jack.

Mary looked nervously at Herbert, who smiled, and said, “Since we are satisfied on that point, the only remaining question, I presume, is one of terms.”

“Sir,” said Jack abruptly, “I hate business and know nothing about it. Therefore excuse me if I put my terms in my own way. If I am to live with Mr Sutherland at Windsor, I shall want, besides food and lodging, a reasonable time to myself every day, with permission to use Miss Sutherland’s piano when I can do so without disturbing anybody, and money enough to keep me decently clothed, and not absolutely penniless. I will say thirty-five pounds a year.”

“Thirty-five pounds a year” repeated Herbert. “To confess the truth, I am not a man of business myself; but that seems quite reasonable.”

“Oh, quite,” said Mary. “I think papa would not mind giving more.”

“It is enough for me,” said Jack, with something like a suppressed chuckle at Mary’s simplicity. “Or, I will take a church organ in the neighborhood, if you can procure it for me, in lieu of salary.”

“I think we had better adhere to the usual arrangement,” said Herbert. Jack nodded, and said, “I have no further conditions to make.”

“Do you wish to say anything?” said Herbert, looking inquiringly at Mary.

“No, I — I think not. I thought Mr. Jack would like to know something of our domestic arrangements.”

“Thank you,” said Jack curtly, “I need not trouble you. If your house does not suit me, I can complain, or leave it.” He paused, and then added more courteously, “You may reassure yourself as to my personal comfort, Miss Sutherland. I am well used to greater privation than I am likely to suffer with you.”

Mary had nothing more to say. Herbert coughed and turned his ring round a few times upon his finger. Jack stood motionless, and looked very ugly.

“Although Mr. Sutherland has left this matter altogether in my hands,” said Herbert at last, “I hardly like to conclude it myself. He is staying close by, in Onslow Gardens. Would you mind calling on him now? If you will allow me, I will give you a note to the effect that our interview has been a satisfactory one.” Jack bowed. “Excuse me for one moment. My writing materials are in the next room. I will say a word or two to Charlie, and send him in to you.”

There was a mirror in the room, which Herbert had used as a model. It was so placed that Mary could see the image of the new tutor’s face, as, being now alone with her, he looked for the first time at the picture. A sudden setting of his mouth and derisive twinkle in his eye shewed that he found something half ludicrous, half contemptible, in the work; and she, observing this, felt hurt, and began to repent having engaged him. Then the expression softened to one of compassion; he sighed as he turned away from the easel. Before she could speak Charlie entered, saying:

“I am to go back with you to Onslow Gardens, Mr Jack, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, no, Charlie: you must stay with me,” said Mary.

“Don’t be alarmed: Adrian is going on to the Museum with you directly; and the housekeeper is here to do propriety. I have no particular fancy for lounging about that South Kensington crockery shop with you; and, besides, Mr Jack does not know his way to Jermyn’s. Here is Adrian.”

Herbert came in, and handed a note to the tutor, who took it; nodded briefly to them; and went out with Charlie.

“That is certainly the ugliest man I ever saw,” said Herbert. “I think he has got the better of us, too. We are a pretty pair to transact business.”